


A Toast (to new friends and allies)

by KeeperofSeeds



Series: down time on the Dreadful Wale [1]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Canon Disabled Character, Card Games, Dishonored 2, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, During Canon, Families of Choice, Ficlet, Friendship, Gen, Healing, Light Angst, Past Abuse, Past Torture, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Team as Family, The Dreadful Wale, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 00:13:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9295784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeeperofSeeds/pseuds/KeeperofSeeds
Summary: Down time on the Dreadful Wale. Meagan reluctantly gets drawn into a game of cards. The evening ends with more drinking and feelings than she'd expected.





	

 

Another long night, Meagan thought as she triple checked the Wale's anchor line. The sound of high pitched laughter jostled her out of her concentration. It seems the young Empress is still awake. Curious as to the source of her mirth, Meagan coils one more length of rope up and dropped it near the mast before making her way down in the bowels of her ship.

 

She wasn't sure what she expected, but it wasn't the scene she walks in on. 

The young Empress gleefully reaching over their briefing table to collect a small pile of coins and mismatch items, while Anton gives a half-hearted huff of defeat. 

 

Sitting across from the doors, he is the one to notice her first. 

 

"Meagan, come save me from losing the very clothes on my back. Given that I've only just got most of them back, I'd like to keep hold of them.

 

She doesn't need reminding. The bruises on his face are still fading. Shades of purple slowly fading to blue and yellow tinged reminders of his treatment under that sadist Jindosh. 

 

This is new though, and she hesitates. Anton and she have their rhythms, developed over the long years living together in such close quarters. The Empress does her best to be quiet guest, which surprised Meagan initially, but she's still an unknown for the most part. Does she want to encourage this relationship past strictly professional bounds? It's been a long damn time since Meagan had someone else she could call a friend. She'd hadn't expected that sort of think when she thought Corvo was the one she'd been shuttling to and fro, but things turned out differently than they'd all expected. 

 

The Empress turns around in her chair. She looks less severe tonight. Her gold trimed jacket draped on the back of the chair, her boots off, hair in a loose braid down her back. She seems less worn down by all that life's thrown at her. Maybe finding Anton was just as important to her too. He'd talked about her, and life inside the Tower occasionally.

 

"We need a third," Emily wheedles, sounding like any other young woman out looking to relax for an evening. 

 

"She knows me too well and wants a challenge," counters Anton. And it's then that Meagan remembers that Anton wasn't just the Royal Physician, he had also taught the Empress for a time. Their ease together begins to make more sense.

 

Emily turns around to gather up the cards scattered on the table and begins shuffling them with a quick hand.  

 

"Come on Meagan, we could all use a break tonight."

Meagan sees the smirk growing under Anton's greasy beard. Foolish old man. How she'd missed him. But she couldn't allow him to think it was this easy. She hooked an ankle around a chair and pulled it closer to the table.

"Alright," she says. "I'll join in, _but…_ only if Anton shares some of his King's Street Brandy."

 

She'd expected him to balk at the mere suggestion, the miser. Instead, his growing smirk softens into a more melancholy, but more natural smile.

"If any occasion calls for King Street's famous red, it is a situation like ours."

He waves a hand towards one of the many boxes pushed against the wall and with no hesitation Emily puts down the cards to hunt through the boxes until she finds their prize. She proudly places it before Anton with a short bow, as if play acting at being in court. Anton reaches out and places one spotted and shaking hand on top of hers, patting it in thanks.

  

"I am lucky to be able to share a bottle with friends once more." He says, and pours out generous helpings into the three nearest tumbles. He raises it towards the two women across from him and proclaims, "to friends and allies. To those who think an old washed up inventor is still worth salvaging."

Emily slowly raises her own glass, her gaze gone inwards. She speaks slowly, "To taking back what's mine. To saving my Father. And…to doing better." It sounds more like a vow than a toast, but Meagan isn't in any place to judge.

Then they are both looking at her expectantly.

Meagan swirls the liquid in her glass as she thinks. There are so many things she _could_ say. Will she, is the question. She's kept so many secrets for so long, kept living for so long, almost out of spite. Just to prove she could. What does she have to toast?

The silence draws out, and they let it, waiting on her. She finally raises her glass. "To… _old_ friends," she says, echoing Anton.

 

They drink.

 

Anton smacks his lips, savoring the drink. "Ahhh. Truly a delight!" he proclaims. "Now, come Meagan, perhaps the two of us can work together to win back some of my trinkets!"

 

Emily picks back up the cards and begins to deal them out. "You're welcome to try," she says, and the mischievous grin makes her look even younger than she is.

 

Meagan cracks the knuckles of her remaining fist and pulls the cards towards her. One night, she reasons, one night free of worry will be alright.

 

* * *

 

 Anton continues to lose or fold early on, and soon switches to gleefully drinking the remainder of the bottle and heckling the pair of them.   

It takes 6 rounds, but Meagan wins back half of Anton's trinkets, and the fanciest handkerchief she's ever held in her own work roughed hand.

Emily shakes her hand, gracious in defeat.

 

Not many can say they've bested an Empress, Meagan thinks, even if just at cards.

 

 


End file.
